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Film: Sparrow
Year of production: 2008
UK Release date: 9th May 2011
Distributor: Terracotta
Certificate: 15
Running time: 87 mins
Director: Johnnie To
Starring: Simon Yam, Kelly Lin, Lam Ka-tung, Lo Hoi-pang, Law Wing-cheong
Genre: Comedy/Crime/Drama/Romance
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Hong Kong
Language: Cantonese/Mandarin
Review by: Daryl Wing
The 'Jerry Bruckheimer of Hong Kong', Johnnie To has enjoyed a startling career to date, ending the 1990s on a high before suffocating in the creative and financial lull endured by a struggling Hong Kong film industry in 2001. Hitting form again with the release of award winner Running On Karma (2003), Breaking News (2004) and Throw Down (2004), the prolific auteur then delivered the mighty Election (2005) and its follow up. Not afraid to venture into the world of comedy, crime-caper Sparrow attempts to merge the criminal world with humour and romance, but will a tale about pickpockets falling for the same mysterious woman leave an audience feeling short changed?
A band of pick-pockets (‘sparrow’ in Hong Kong slang) are enjoying a profitable year when their corrupt world is disrupted by the sudden appearance of a beautiful and mysterious lady, who has the nerve to turn the tables on them.
Following her trail, the pick-pockets are led to a face-off on the streets of Hong Kong with a rival pick-pocket gang, with both gangs vying for the possession of this enigmatic lady.
As both sides struggle to decide who she plans to side with, revelations about her past reveal a sweeter side to her personality, and a hidden yearning for freedom…
An avian attack in waiting then, with hundreds of starved cynics perched on the edge of their seats, claws freshly sharpened, all waiting silently for any false move so they could take to the sky and begin their savage assault on one of Honk Kong’s most consistent directors – and Sparrow disappointingly allows them all to scratch his eyes out, despite bearing a vivid hallmark of good intent.
It houses all the trappings of a decent gambol across the innocent pastures cultivated by some of Hollywood’s greats from the 1950s and ‘60s. So much so, in fact, if Sparrow starred Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, you would probably appreciate its little oddities far more. The problem is that Johnnie To appears to have lost himself in such a sugar-coated world that he failed to construct a plot that can’t be written down on the back of a postage stamp.
Overpopulated with thinly-drawn characters (and over familiar casting), it’s hindered by a cheap impersonation of Hitchcock’s worst material, and suffers from a director keen to stamp his authority all over key scenes whilst forgetting the rest. The introduction neatly pulls the viewer into this world of over indulgence – and it also sets the stage of expectation at a level the ensuing 80-minutes fail to meet.
It’s difficult to work out whether or not the pacing is deliberately sluggish, because just as scenes start to sag, To does something quite magical, upping the ante, not to mention the interest levels. With a Breakfast At Tiffany’s vibe running throughout, impressive moments include our main protagonist being outsmarted by a girl who can clearly drink until the cows come home, an amusing escape in a crowded lift, To’s obsession with dressing his male leads in ladies rags continuing with a tense massage scene, and the visually poetic finale in the rain with a handful of umbrellas. They may not be searching for a ginger cat, there’s no kiss in the downpour, and it may not make a great deal of sense to western viewers, if to anyone at all, but it’s certainly captivating, and easily the highlight of the film – if indeed you make it that far.
Whether a few minutes of pleasure justifies enduring the other 80 minutes is debatable however, because it takes an eternity for the plot to find its feet, tripped up by an unexplained interest in photography, a cigarette smoking scene about as erotic as kissing an ashtray, To trying to convince the audience that men on crutches can climb ladders just as easily as those without (in fact, they can do everything just as well), an unpaid set-up involving a café owner that laughs at his customers, and not enough back-story or characterisation to convince us that the heroine/villain deserves such puppy-eyed adulation.
In its favour, Sparrow is able to walk a careful line between nostalgic crime-caper trappings (the damsel in distress, the sophisticated charmer, quirky side-kicks and goofy innocence) and modern, crime-riddled realism, even if it does frustrate with a fanciful feathered friend who is only too happy to be a flying metaphor. Where is that ginger cat when you need it? How it all ties together is anyone’s guess, and how the journey wasn’t as painful as this review sounds is a bigger crime than those witnessed throughout; in any case, it’s visually satisfying and bizarrely intriguing, with performances impossible to assess and a dreamlike experience suited to Sunday afternoon viewing.
Nestling snugly between his successes and failures, Johnnie To’s Sparrow almost falls fowl of the audience with a film that never really takes flight, and yet has enough magic to carry you through to its fascinating and equally perplexing finale. DW
Film: The Detective
Release date: 11th April 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 109 mins
Director: Oxide Pang
Starring: Aaron Kwok, Liu Kai-chi, Wong Tak-bun, Lau Siu-ming, Lai Yiu-cheung
Genre: Drama/Thriller
Studio: Terracotta
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong
We’re used to seeing the fruits of the Pang brothers’ combined labours - notably with 2002’s acclaimed The Eye - but in this psychological thriller about a private detective drawn into a murder mystery, only production duties are shared. Danny steps aside for his twin Oxide to take the directorial reins and guide Aaron Kwok through the sleazy backstreets of Thailand on the trail of a suspected killer.
Kwok stars as Tam, a private investigator who is persuaded to track down a young woman after his friend, Lung (Shing Fui-on) bursts into his office in a state of panic before claiming that she is trying to kill him.
A wad of notes convinces Tam to pursue the case and, although he has nothing but a photograph with which to begin his investigation, he soon uncovers a web of intrigue and a whole world of trouble. While another friend, Inspector Fung Chak (Liu Kai-chi) attempts to warn him off, Tam vows to solve the mystery. But as the body count steadily rises, so does the danger to his own life…
The Detective is flawed, but it does look great. The Pang brothers have waxed lyrical in the past about their devotion to cinematography, editing and sound, and this movie delivers in that sphere. It swept the board at the 27th Hong Kong Film Awards in the technical department, scooping prizes for sound design and visual effects among others – and deservedly so. Aesthetically this is a minor treat, right down to the grimy depiction of Thailand’s backstreets, where you can almost smell the food and squalor.
The score, courtesy of Payont Permsith and Jadet Chawang, was also recognised at that ceremony. Overblown, like so much of the film, it helps ratchet up the tension when Oxide Pang deploys shock tactics to keep the plot ticking over and the audience attentive. That in itself is hardly a crime, and no surprise from a director at home in the horror genre, but for all the ingenuity of Pang’s flourishes - a sudden rush of blood from a nose or foam from a mouth - the fact the audience learns to expect a shock every dozen minutes or so rather detracts from the surprise when it comes along.
There is menace here, and not just from the soundtrack’s booming drums: dark, sleazy characters lurk in the shadows and Tam is genuinely threatened. We are regularly treated to close ups of the detective in full shocked mode – mouth wide, eyes bulging – so much so that you wonder why he chose investigating as a profession at all. Tam clearly does not have the stomach for it and probably not the brains for it either. He’s not from the Inspector Clouseau school of detectives, but, equally, Tam is hardly the sharpest knife in the drawer. Foxed by office equipment in the opening scenes, he looks out of his depth much of the time.
We do learn why Tam operates alone and, indeed, why he still persists in this line of work despite his flaws. His failing eyesight denied him his chance of official police status, and his failure to find his missing parents many years ago drives him on professionally. Tam clearly has something to prove to himself and breaking a major case would bring him redemption, hence his willingness to imperil himself.
Unfortunately, Pang’s use of Tam’s short-sightedness as a plot device is, well, short-sighted. At times, he appears to have extraordinary vision, identifying a stranger 50 yards away in a darkened car as the man of whom he caught a fleeting glimpse on a staircase hours before. And yet, at other times, he can barely see the ground in front of him. Tam atones for his lack of vision by photographing anything that seems significant like a snap-happy tourist. It’s a method that echoes Christopher Nolan’s Memento in which Guy Pearce’s character takes pictures to counteract his own deficiency, in this case memory loss.
Tam’s flaws do make him endearing, though. Oxide Pang’s sympathetic portrayal of the detective and Kwok’s winning performance gets the audience on his side and into his character’s shoes. Tam’s inner struggle is theirs, too, and that connection is one of the movie’s saving graces.
Tam spends much of the film scratching his head or chasing his tail but Kwok plays incredulous rather well and pretty much holds the whole movie together with a watchable – if occasionally hackneyed – performance. His pop star looks help significantly (Kwok made his name in dance and music before acting) and he is Pang’s trump card in the acting department. He certainly outshines Fung Chak (Liu Kai-chi), the Inspector and friend who tolerates Tam’s naïve investigative methods like a parent would allow a child to help in the kitchen as long as they didn’t touch the oven or use the knives.
While Kwok’s performance as Tam gets better and better as the film unfolds, Liu’s Chak is a rather ludicrous character who arrives at every crime scene to berate his old pal (“Call yourself a detective?!”) and then leave him to once more pursue his maverick ways. Shing Fui-on as Lung is just as entertaining – and even more bizarre – while Lai Yiu-cheung (as Sai Wing) and Kenny Wong (as Kwong Chi-hung) offer further uninspired support. But Kwok is the main draw here – he’s barely off-screen and that works fine.
A clunky script does not help Kwok and partly explains the others’ one-track performances but Oxide Pang does a decent job of tying up the loose ends. That said, the director does run the risk of losing his audience before he cleverly unravels the mystery.
Oxide Pang has delivered a stylish movie, sprinkled with head-turning flourishes and camera tricks that show off his TV commercial background, while Aaron Kwok produces a solid performance as Tam. But this is a triumph for style over substance as a workmanlike script and less-than-shocking shock tactics relegate this film from a decent effort into a mediocre one. Whether Detective 2, released in 2011, is an improvement remains to be seen. On the evidence of the sequels to The Eye, not to mention its Hollywood remake, Oxide Pang will be hard pushed to maintain what freshness there is in this project. CH
Daily proceedings of a band of pick-pockets (‘sparrow’ in Hong Kong slang) are disrupted by the sudden appearance of a beautiful and mysterious lady, who turns the tables on them.
Following her trail, the pick-pockets are led to a face-off on the streets of Hong Kong with a rival pick-pocket gang, with both gangs vying for the possession of this enigmatic lady.
A comedy caper with comparisons to French New Wave work such as Umbrellas Of Cherbourg, Sparrow has the stylish trademarks of a Johnnie To film, with a wonderful jazz-tinged soundtrack and a photographic blend of the nostalgic old Hong Kong and the modern sky-scraper city.
Starring To regulars Simon Yam (Tomb Raider 3. Election), Lam Kar Tung (Election, Triangle, Vengeance) and Kelly Lin (Reign of Assassins).
Film: Sparrow
Release date: 15th April 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 87 mins
Director: Johnnie To
Starring: Simon Yam, Kelly Lin, Lam Ka-tung, Lo Hoi-pang, Law Wing-cheong
Genre: Comedy/Crime/Drama/Romance
Studio: Terracotta
Format: Cinema
Country: Hong Kong
In this atmospheric thriller, a private detective named Tam (Asian superstar Aaron Kwok, The Storm Warriors, Throw Down, After This Our Exile) is drawn into a complex murder mystery when he is hired by a seemingly insane Kenny Wong to track down a woman whom Wong believes is out to kill him.
As the trail unfolds, it appears that supernatural forces may be at hand and that there is no one that Tam can trust to tell the truth anymore until the truth itself is revealed in the chilling climax to this intricate story.
Set in Bangkok with beautiful art-direction, a booming soundtrack and a great performance from Aaron Kwok, The Detective is a stylish and gritty supernatural thriller from horror maestro Oxide Pang, who is one half of the Pang Brothers (The Eye, The Messengers, Bangkok Dangerous).
Film: The Detective
Release date: 11th April 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 109 mins
Director: Oxide Pang
Starring: Aaron Kwok, Liu Kai-chi, Wong Tak-bun, Lau Siu-ming, Lai Yiu-cheung
Genre: Drama/Thriller
Studio: Terracotta
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong
DVD Special Features:
•
Making of featurette
•
Behind the Scenes at the Gala
•
World Premiere
•
UK trailers
•
Oxide Pang exclusive introduction
•
‘What is Terracotta?’ featurette
•
Stills gallery
Film: Hansel & Gretel
Release date: 6th April 2009
Certificate: 15
Running time: 116 mins
Director: Yim Pil-sung
Starring: Cheon Jeong-myeong, Shim Eun-kyung, Jang Young-nam, Ji-hee Jin, Kim Kyeong-ik
Genre: Drama/Fantasy/Horror/Mystery
Studio: Terracotta
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
The Grimm’s classic fairytale Hansel and Gretal is one that lives forever in the memory. With its gingerbread house and wicked witch, it is a children’s tale that possesses joyful wonderment and creepy scares in equal measure. When Yim Pil-sung released this film in 2007, he promised to pay homage to such beloved fairytales; however, the famed story which lends its name to Pil-sung’s film is observed but not adapted here.
Salesman Eun-soo, on his way to visit his sick mother, drives down a deserted bypass when he receives a phone call from his pregnant and irate girlfriend. As the two argue, Eun-soo loses control of his car and crashes into the surrounding forest. As he awakes in a state of shock, he is greeted by a young red-hooded girl named Hee. He follows Hee to her house with the promise of hospitality for the night.
The house lies deep in the forest in beautiful surroundings. Eun-soo is amazed by the picture perfect state of the house and its grounds - the sign on the outside reads: “House of Happy Children”. Inside the house, he is greeted by Hee’s older brother Man-bok and younger sister Jung Soon. The children’s parents complete this ‘perfect family’. They offer to take Eun-soo in for the night until they can get him help, as the family has no phone and no means of contacting the nearby town.
The next day Eun-soo gives his thanks and heads back into the forest to recover his car. He walks and walks through the seemingly endless forest but becomes more and more lost amongst the trees and bushes. Hours later, he arrives impossibly back at the house. He stays another night still eager to return to his pregnant wife, but in the night he is troubled by strange noises from the attic as well as arguing between the kid’s seemingly scared parents.
The next morning he awakes early to find the parents have left for town without him. When he again winds up back at the house, after getting lost in the forest, his suspicions begin to grow. The parents are missing, the forest is inescapable and the children seem intent on keeping him at the house to look after them. It is growing ever clearer that this fairytale house and these perfect children are hiding a sinister secret...
It is in the film’s attention to minor details where it succeeds. Ryu Seong-hee worked as production designer on Oldboy and The Host, and here he transforms the world of the film into something rich in eerie macabre and tirelessly faithful in its legacy to fairytales. A lasting tone of weird is set about as Eun-soo sits down to dinner with the family at a table filled with candy, colourful cakes and buns. This imagery extends to the children’s toys, storybooks and paths laid with breadcrumbs. This achieves the feel of an early Tim Burton, transforming the idyllic ‘50s style family into something altogether unsettling.
It is refreshing to see an Asian horror that does not rely upon extreme measures to give its kicks. Asian horror is, of course, revered for producing extreme terrorfests such as The Ring and Audition. Hansel & Gretal is not another demonic kid horror either, although the children are disturbing with their innocent facades. In truth, the film plays out more like a thriller, as we are presented a series of plot twists and red herrings. The discovery of the mother in the attic is particularly mind-bending, and there are an abundance of mysterious adults, acts of the supernatural and secrets hidden in the forest. All of these factors continue to rouse your suspicions and keep you engrossed until all is revealed at the end - this is despite its overly-long running time.
Kim Min Suk’s story appeals more to your emotions than your fear. Like in the The Orphanage, the focus on the characters and the tragedy of their story washes away the tones of horror to leave a heart warming and lasting conclusion. Misconceptions of the children’s motives and confused wrong-doing are changed with the story of how they came to be. The film looks at the effects of unrequited love and a want to belong, and these shine through as the film’s most effecting themes.
In a film that depends so heavily on mystery and fantasy, it is also refreshing that the ending doesn’t give too much away. The predictable last half hour of explanation is in keeping with the films surreal atmosphere - we are enlightened but are left with plenty to base our own personal interpretation and experience of the film on.
Hansel & Gretal works on many levels. The film has a magical and original script supported by equally magical visuals. The capture of the snow filled Korean forest and claustrophobic house create a feeling of wonderment straight out of a fairytale. This has maybe gone a little unnoticed outside of its native Korea, but it is well worth chasing up. A big surprise for its charm and inner delights, this is a horror film with a very sweet tooth. LW
“We're extremely happy to be working with Sparrow by the much respected director Johnnie To,” announced the distributor. The crime caper stars Johnnie To regulars Simon Yam and Lam Kar Tung as pickpockets who are outwitted by a rival gang. The film promises “lots of stylish trademark Johnnie To shots for fans of his work!”
The Detective is directed by Oxide Pang, one half of the Pang Brothers who came to international prominence with The Eye. In The Detective, Asian mega-star Aaron Kwok stars as a private eye who takes on the case of a missing person - the further he digs, though, the more sinister, and seemingly supernatural, the circumstances surrounding the missing woman becomes.
Expect to see Sparrow out in selected cinemas in the first quarter of next year and both films out on DVD in April. Keep checking subtitledonline.com for more information on both releases in the New Year.
Film: Big Tits Zombie
Release date: 11th October 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 73 mins
Director: Takao Nakano
Starring: Sora Aoi, Mari Sakurai, Minoru Torihada, Io Aikawa
Genre: Action/Comedy/Horror
Studio: Terracotta
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
The popular, well-endowed sex goddess, Sola Aoi, an idol in the Japanese adult video industry, stars in one of the daftest film titles of the year - Big Tits Zombie. If that isn’t enough, she also pops up, and pops out, in 3D. Available to buy on DVD this month, what’s not to like?
Lena is a young dancer trying to find her way in the world. Returning to Japan from Mexico, she is offered a job at the Paradise Ikagawa theatre, a struggling club in a deserted suburban town where she performs with four other girls, despite its lack of clients.
With little to do other than bitch at each other to pass the time of day, one of the girls happens upon a hidden door in their dressing room, leading them to a basement beneath the condemned Health Spa across the street.
Discovering a mysterious well, a box of money, and otherworldly possessions such as the book of the dead, dancer Maria inadvertently summons the fallen back to life. With a thirst for the red stuff, the zombies attack anyone who stands in their way.
Lena and the rest of her posse must band together if they are to overcome the mass hordes of slaughtered souls, but Maria, learning she actually has the power to control them, has other ideas…
Barely attempting to construct anything resembling a plot, Takao Nakano is content to allow his adult video starlets to run proceedings, even if they are just squabbling for the first half hour. Though there is brief nudity here, the action is surprisingly less explicit than the title would suggest.
Therefore, other than an intriguing introduction that will please most hardened splatter fans, there is little in the opening act to sustain too much interest, unless scantily clad girls scrapping and bemoaning their shortcomings gets your adrenalin pumping. Considering that the five girls are supposed to be dancers, it’s little wonder they have no punters – 3D or not, they make Anne Widdecombe look like Anna Pavlova.
Only on the discovery of the hidden door does the film come to life, and boasts some memorable highlights. Obviously fans of Sola Aoi and Risa Kasumi will be glad to see them here, and Sola certainly holds her own in the acting department. In fact, all of the five female leads acquit themselves well and offer a few good chuckles here and there.
Highlights include sushi zombies, zombies playing table tennis, and Maria’s realisation that she can control the deadheads after failed attempts using lollipops and her obvious attributes. Then there’s the revisited opening stand-off, an old man who “looks dead all the time,” the apologetic blue ogre, and a scene stealer involving a flame-throwing vagina. The latter sits so out of place with the movie’s otherwise tame shenanigans you’ll be forgiven for picking your jaw up off the floor, and frustrated that nothing that follows comes even close to it.
The martial arts bloodbath is slightly let down by the use of CGI blood, and it has to be said, the title may disappoint those seeking a bit of titillation. It is on offer here, but only fleetingly, and although big is rarely better, the movie would benefit from a title that doesn’t deceive its audience. They should’ve just called it Zombie. However, those gore-hounds that seek such a provocative moment will be rewarded eventually…
As for the 3D, for some bizarre reason the viewer is treated to it only sparingly, with a hilarious countdown in the top left corner encouraging them to reach for those ill-fitting glasses. Whether it works is another thing – two owned pairs did little other than induce a headache – it will be interesting to see whether or not specs that improve the final result are given away free on its release. And if they are, and they do add a much needed element, why are some scenes that appear to be designed for this purpose completely ignored in favour of 2D?
Gripes aside, at times, Big Tits Zombie is nicely shot, and boasts a wonderfully catchy score reminiscent of a spaghetti western. The plot also benefits from the character Maria going power-mad. She creates much needed conflict in the final third, other than that generated by the zombies, whom all boast shoddy make-up that wouldn’t even terrify a 3-year-old. At least the girls are pleasing on the eye, with Sola Aoi looking the most comfortable in her zombie-whipping-ass-kicking role; shame her weapon of choice, the chainsaw, doesn’t always appear to be fired up - even if it’s making the right noises.
Irredeemably trashy and, at times, fun, Big Tits Zombie goes straight for the splatter-audience jugular and only just misses the target. Lacking in skin, and with an opening act that moves along slower than the walking dead, it’s a relief to eventually discover an often amusing film that finally manages to surprise and entertain - up to a point. DW
Film: Breathless
Release date: 22nd March 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 130 mins
Director: Yang Ik-june
Starring: Yang Ik-june, Kim Kkot-bi
Genre: Drama
Studio: Terracotta
Format: DVD
Country: South Korea
Breathless is a bleak, relentless and emotionally raw movie from South Korea. An uncompromising look at the violent underbelly of a section of poverty ridden urban South Korea, Breathless is the directorial debut of lead man and scriptwriter Yang Ik-joon, and has rightly been bestowed with a healthy array of awards.
Sang-Hoon (Ik-joon) is a seemingly sociopathic debt collector. He lives with memories of his mother’s and sister’s beatings, and his sister’s subsequent murder at the hands of their father. Sang-Hoon retreats into violence - the only language he truly understands – borne from the guilt of not being able to save his sibling. He strikes up an unlikely relationship with a schoolgirl who herself only understands violence and degradation from her own family.
His violence intensifies as he deals with his father’s release from prison, and the demands of his boss to help train and harden new recruits to the organisation. Sang-Hoon struggles to fit the mould of a good role model to his sad young nephew, the son of a half-sister, a boy he is in danger of colouring with his own nihilistic and antagonistic attitudes. However, the film asks is there hope of emotional redemption for Sang-Hoon, and more importantly does he have the capability to feel anything more than hatred and derision?
This film attempts to pick apart his tumultuous life and to understand why his tendency toward violence has coloured him as it has. It also shows how such unfettered and untreated aggression is locked tight in the DNA of society, threatening to replicate itself endlessly, here in the young nephew he is a reluctant role model to. The opening scene itself, a young man belittling and slapping a woman in the street, sets the tone for an unflinching look at bare-handed violence. Domestic violence may be the catalyst for Sang-Hoon’s downward spiral, but it is not the only uncomfortable brutality on display. Sang-Hoon picks fights with strangers, punches women and even slaps his own nephew. A scene where he puts the boy in an armbar submission hold and taunts him to escape is sad and subtly horrifying
Ik-joon plays Sang-Hoon with a chillingly believable dead-eyed detachment. He refuses to take pleasure in the aggression he dishes out, rather breaking himself free in order to perpetrate it. And in breaking himself free, so often the detachment is now perhaps irreparably permanent. The money hungry youths he trains learn his style quickly, and he makes sure any hesitation or apparent displays of empathy are quickly quashed with a beating of his own charges. For his seeming dumb posturing, Sang-Hoon is not dim to the knowledge that someday, somebody bigger and with more unresolved anger will be the match of him.
Ik-joon plays the vulgar mouthed but understated lead man with such gravitas the viewer can’t help but feel his own life is tainted with brutalism. His perfectly weighted role is supported beautifully by the wonderful acting of his schoolgirl friend Yeon-Hee (Kim Kkot-bi). As she lives with the same cyclical behaviours of belittlement and hostility from her own father and brother, she is inexorably drawn toward that type of man, and finds herself wanting to be with Sang-Hoon. His lone wolf attitude pushes her away at first, but as they need each other more they seek one another for some relief from the drudge and agonies of their own lives.
The sets are landmark-free non-touristic areas of Korea. Life in cold near poverty is depicted with washed out stark backdrops and bleak views. Unstylish clothes and unfashionable furniture help give the film, and its core theme of man’s timeless propensity towards hostility, an ageless appeal, refusing really to put it in any age or generation. The language is littered with the very harshest expletives not for a shock effect but for what Ik-joon sees as the truest reflection of the nihilistic hopeless.
The bleakness and traps of this violent behaviour and the uncompromising way it is fully depicted can be highly uncomfortable. It is in no way glorified. No air punching or wire cables here, just cold connecting fists and kicks that can, at times, nauseate the viewer.
Breathless is stubbornly unwilling to shy away from society’s sicknesses. The many scenes comprising this theme are broken and relieved by two long montages played over with gentle music showing Sang-Hoon, Yeon-Hee and his nephew out in the world, shopping and mixing among functional people and families yet never truly fitting in.
As the films pace allows layers to build and relationship dynamics to be understood and interwoven, nausea and discomfort evolves into empathy and worry, characters you are sure are irredeemable surprise you. The shaky documentary style photography adds to the grittiness and rawness.
Breathless is stark, dark and uncompromising. Well directed and with expertly judged emotional performances, this film has dared to expose the terrible unbreakable cycle of violence in an apparently progressive and evolved society. JM
